Love Crafted, page 14
You’re impressed. For a creature with so many hard bony things in her, Charlotte can bend very well. Abigail’s face is very red after she watched Charlotte. You think that it’s the jealousy of not being quite that flexible. “It’s okay,” you say as you pat her hand.
That snaps Abigail out of her jealous funk. “We’re heading to the Old Faith’s club today, right?” she says after clearing her throat.
“We are,” Charlotte says with a firm nod.
Everyone tucks their stuff in their bags and you toss Abigail’s things into the shadows where your tentacles are waiting to sort them for the next class. Then you’re all off to the next club!
Or you would be, if Abigail doesn’t stop a few steps out of the class, bringing your entire group to a stop.
“H-hello Abigail,” Daphne says. “And Dreamer, and Charlotte,” she adds a moment later. She doesn’t look nearly as nervous as she was over lunch time, but she’s still a little fretful. Really, she needs to get over her whole thing with liking Abigail. It’s natural to like Abigail, everyone should do it. You liked Daphne more when she was all tough and assertive.
“Hello Daphne,” Abigail says. “Ah, you wanted to… Right now.” She goes red again and looks around for a bit. “We were going to visit a club, did you want to come?”
Daphne took in a deep breath of air and straightened herself back up. When she was done her smile was a lot more Daphne-like. “I would love to,” she said.
You skipped ahead of the others on the way to the mysterious Old Faith’s club, Web riding on your head and grabbing on to your hairtacles for dear life.
“You didn’t actually say which club we’re visiting next,” Daphne says.
“Ah, it’s the Old Faith’s club,” Abigail says.
“Really? Of all the clubs… well, I suppose it’s not so bad, though they have something of a reputation.”
“What sort of reputation?”
“They’re considered, honestly, it wouldn’t be polite to say in public. I suppose you’ll just have to find out,” Daphne says.
You’ll find out really soon because you arrive before a classroom in one of the quieter corners of the school that has a black sign with big fancy letters on it that reads ‘Old Faiths’ on the door. You rap your knuckles on the closed door and bounce while you wait. Web is tap-tapping a beat on your head in time with your bouncing because Web is just neat like that.
The door opens to reveal a person that you think might be a human. He’s tall, but really skinny, and instead of wearing the school’s normal robes he’s wearing a white blouse that’s very tight and much tighter black leather pants. He sighs. “More lambs to the slaughter?” he asks, his voice sounds like Abigail when she wakes up in the middle of the night to go pee.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hello,” Abigail says. “We wished to visit the Old Faith’s club?”
“Ugh,” he says before eyeing them all for a long time, then he moves back from the door. “Come in, I guess. I’m Lewis.”
The four of you step into a dark room. There are drapes over the windows and lots of black leather couches against the walls where people who are all wearing black or red or sometimes white are lounging around as if they’re really sleepy. But this doesn’t feel like a sleeping place.
“Hey everyone,” Lewis says in a voice barely louder than normal talking. “We have new people here to find enlightenment and truth by peeling back the evil and sordid lies of the Inquisition. Let us all guide them to the truth.”
You expected a cheer, or some clapping, but there’s a lot more sighing and low moaning. You then notice that all the boys and girls have very pale, powdery faces and lots of makeup on. You don’t know what this means.
“So, um, Lewis,” Abigail asks. “What does your club… do?”
“Ugh,” Lewis says. “Like I said, we know that there are things underneath the Underneath, and we want to, like, peel off the coverings and expose the dark, bleeding heart of this decrepit world.”
“Can you explain… more?” Abigail tries.
Lewis sighs as if she just asked him something really stupid. He is being very dismissive of Abigail and that isn’t okay. “You.” He pauses and makes a wavy motion towards your group. “Sheep are all the same. Can’t you see that there’s more to this world than what’s on the surface? There are things lurking in the dark, and we ought to bring them to their rightful place above us.”
You think you might maybe know what he’s talking about. There are lots of things that like dark hidey places. Like the Abyss and tadpoles and cthulians and sometimes some of your kinda-cousins.
“And so you’re trying to… summon those things to our world?” Abigail asks.
“We try, but as with all things, the only result in the end… is failure.” Lewis turns around and kinda waddles over to a corner of the room where a girl is inscribing a circle on the ground.
There are all sorts of things around the circle, you notice. Yummy looking fruit, and jars of pixie dust, and a few bowls with some juice, and other snacks.
“Everyone, my dark brothers and black sisters,” Lewis says. “Gather ‘round, if you please. The time is nearing when we must begin our ritual and call up on the great dark one.”
Nearly half of the people move towards Lewis and his ritual circle, most of them looking a bit older than the others. You suppose that the spikiness of their hair and the amount of tears in their clothes is some sort of indication of rank.
“I forgot about our guests,” Lewis says. “If you want to see us attempt to commune with the great darkness beyond, feel free to stay. But if you’re too much of a sheep, you know where the door is. Summoning the great Pou-tine is not a feat for the weak of heart.”
There’s some hustling and bustling and suddenly you and Abigail and the others are all moved off to the side of the room farthest from the ritual area. “This is very dangerous,” a girl says with a flat, bored tone. “One mistake and we could lose the black pits that are our souls. Stay away, sheep.” The girl stays next to you and crosses her arms. “Can’t believe I have to babysit.”
The rest of the club members gather around a circle with the same energy you have when you’re woken up mid-nap.
Lewis leaves for a little bit to a small room at the back, but he comes back soon enough wearing a big robe with a bunch of skulls tied to it. “Are those, are those real skulls?” Abigail asks.
That would be awful. Someone ate those people but didn’t eat their yummy yummy head bones. That’s such a waste.
“Nah, they’re made of plaster. We’re not barbarians,” the girl says. She eyes your group for a bit. “Are any of you virgins? We might need some blood or stuff later.”
Abigail and Daphne squawk and make noises while Charlotte shakes her head.
You don’t know what’s going on, really, so you sit back and watch the ritual unfold.
Lewis circles around the group with a metal thing on the end of a chain. There’s smoke coming out of it that smells like flowers. Then he moves to the front of the circle and gestures to someone who brings him a big book that’s already opened. “Step the first. In order to call upon the great Pou-tine we must bring into the circle the ingredients of Pou-tine’s making.”
You nod. That makes sense. If someone who wasn’t Abigail wanted your attention, then putting lots of naps in a circle would probably do it, maybe some pillows and happy dreams and bedtime snacks too. You’re not sure how the mortals would figure out how to make liquid nap time, but they’re clever sometimes.
If they want to summon Pou-tine, then you know they’ll need lots of cheese, and gravy, and fries.
“Bring the blood!” Lewis says.
You blink at that then look up to Abigail for an explanation. She just looks a little worried. “Why are they getting blood?” you ask.
“Ah, I don’t know,” Abigail says.
“It’s not actually blood,” the girl says. “We’re not allowed to use blood in rituals, it’s against the rules, so we use pudding with red dye.”
“Oh,” Abigail says.
That doesn’t seem like it would work, but you’re not the expert here.
“Step the second,” Lewis says. “Like calls upon like, the Great Pou-tine is a creature of the dark. His call must reflect this.”
The lights go out and soon only a single red-flamed candle illuminates the room. That might be a good thing because you’re pretty sure you’re wearing a weird expression right now. Pou-tine isn’t a creature of the dark. And she’s a she. Sorta. Mortal genders are strange, but you’re pretty sure Pou-tine would be a girl if she was around.
Maybe.
“Step the third!” Lewis says with more fervor. “We chant!”
The students in the circle begin to sway from side to side, all of them slowly humming something. “Om nom nom. Om nom nom.”
“Oh great Pou-tine, master of the great dark, heed our call and come unto this mortal realm,” Lewis says.
“He’s so dark and mysterious,” the girl sighs. She’s paying more attention to Lewis than anything else.
“He’s a dummy,” you say. The girl glares at you but Charlotte and Daphne both slap their hands over their mouths. “He’s doing it all wrong. That’s not how you summon anyone.”
If they really wanted to summon Pou-tine then they would need a lot more than what they have here. They have no symbols, nothing that Pou-tine would want, and their chant is all wrong. You’re beginning to think that someone taught these students wrong on purpose.
Shaking your head, you split your attention between your small mostly-mortal body and your real big body. A call goes out across the void, not a ritual but a proper message sent between two very old things.
Your message is quite simple: “Hey, Pou-tine, some mortals want to talk.” And then you attach the proper place and time to the message. Hopefully the Old Faiths club will appreciate your help.
The room starts to smell like fried potatoes.
Curious, you take a peak on the Other Side only to find Pou-tine’s gravy-like tentacles and curds of madness swamping around the void. Its fri-eyes lock onto you and it waves a hello.
You wave back because you’re a good neighbour. You only try to eat Pou-tine when you’re really hungry or in the mood.
Reaching up with your mortal body’s hand, you grab onto Abigail. “It’s time to go now,” you say.
“W-what?” she squeaks.
“Pou-tine is coming. It’s time to go.” You accentuate that by pulling her towards the door.
The other girls hesitate a little, but they follow after you.
You only just close the door when the chanting turns to screaming, and you need to step fast to avoid the splat of gravy leaking out from under the door.
“Okay, that was fun,” you say. “Where do we go now?”
“Actually,” Charlotte says. “Today’s the first meeting of the Athletic Club. I came along for this, but I do need to head out.” Web jumps off your head and swings over to Charlotte, landing on the top of her chest since it’s the most platform-like thing on her.
“Bye!” You say to Charlotte. The taller girl beams down at you and pats your head and ruffles your hair.
“Goodbye Dreamer,” she says before pointing to Web who is riding on her shoulder. “Web says bye too.”
The spider wiggles one of its tiny limbs in the air before it and if you’re not mistaken its big furry mandibles are stretched out in a smile.
“Bye Web!” you say to her before waving. Abigail and Daphne say bye too and then your group splits up, Charlotte heading off towards her evening with the Athletics Club and you and Abigail and Daphne heading off to… “Hey, where are we going?” you ask.
Abigail and Daphne both jump at your question and pause to stare at each other, then they look away. “W-we should talk,” Abigail says.
“I agree.” Daphne crosses her arms. “Though the Academy is a bit public for that kind of discussion.”
“Maybe we could wait until tomorrow?” Abigail says and Daphne nods.
You narrow your eyes. You don’t know exactly what’s going on between the two. It’s all some mortal stuff that’s beneath your notice and that you would usually ignore. If it wasn’t for Abigail being involved then you would definitely not care one bit. But she is, and Abigail is important.
“No,” you say and both girls jump. “You two should talk until you find out what’s wrong with each other, then fix it.”
“Dreamer,” Abigail whines.
“No,” you say with a shake of your head. “Talking first. Whining after.” Reaching up, you grab both girls by one hand each and start walking. You were already on the edge of the campus, so it doesn’t take long for you to reach the streets beyond where there are a bunch of small shops.
“Where are you leading us, Dreamer?” Daphne asks. She sounds calm, but her hand is all sweaty.
“There,” you say before nodding to a place across the street. There’s a big cafe nestled between an alchemy shop and a small office building, the sign out front calls it the Garden of Lilies. There are snacks at those places, and snacks make things better.
“Oh my,” Daphne says as you drag her into the store. It smells like coffee and cake and pastries and other yummy stuff inside. There are quite a few people too, mostly girls but some boys, nearly all of them sitting at little tables for two here and there.
“Hello,” says a rotund lady with an apron and a smile on. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” you say. “We need yummies and a place to talk.”
Daphne coughs to clear her throat and takes a small step forward. “If I recall, this establishment has a… private room, where we can discuss things in confidence?”
The lady’s eyebrows rise. “I see. We do have a room available at the back, though it’s for, well…”
“I,” Daphne looks away. “I’m a member of the Gardening Club.”
The lady looks at her, then at you, then at Abigail. “Oh my. In that case, follow me.”
The room you’re brought to is very small. There a pair of chairs sat next to each other before a small table, and off to the corner is a couch that’s just big enough for someone to sleep on if they wanted to. A big urn filled with flowers makes the whole place smell pretty.
“Shall I return to take your orders?” the lady asks.
Daphne rattles off a list of things, then looks at you and adds two cakes to the order. You hope they’re for you.
You take over the couch and bounce on it a few times before plopping down and looking at the girls. Abigail sits down on one chair, Daphne on the other. They stare at each other with fleeting glances then look absolutely anywhere else. Sometimes they make noises as if they’re going to speak, but then cut themselves off when the other looks at them.
Then the lady returns with a tray. She takes in the room at a glance as she moves to place it on the table. “It works best if you both speak your desires aloud,” she says as she places tea on the table. The rest of the tray, cakes and all, is left in the middle. “You have the room for another half hour, miladies,” she says before bowing and leaving.
Daphne’s cup rattles as she picks it off her saucer. She holds it up for a moment, then lowers it back down. “I… I love you,” she says.
Abigail freezes.
“I’ve loved you since, since I discovered what the word meant. You’re, you’re Abigail, and that means everything to me. I want you to be happy, to be strong and fierce and a little bit naive and, and to be you. And I want to be near you while you’re happy and there when you’re sad. Which.” Daphne chokes on her own words and takes a gulp of her tea. “If you just want to be friends, then I owe it to you to be just that. The best friend you’ll ever have. And no matter what you do, I’ll still be there.”
Daphne sets her cup down. It’s empty now. She stands up.
“I’m, I’m going to go. Don’t worry about the bill, it’s, I’ll cover it. M-maybe we can continue as we did today? It was fun?”
“No.”
The word rings through the room and has Daphne stopping mid-motion. She starts to shiver.
Abigail shakes her head, hair bouncing with the motion. “No, that just, that just won’t do. You’re, you’re my sister, my best friend, and even if I’m not sure if I feel that way about girls, I know that I love you too. I just don’t know if it’s the same kind.” Abigail takes a deep breath, her brows scrunch up and her hands ball up into tiny fists. “But I’m going to find out.”
“What?” Daphne squeaks.
“We’re, we’re gonna go on a date.”
“What?” Daphne squeaks louder.
Abigail is standing up now too, her chair scraping against the floor with the motion. “We’re going to go on a date, and m-maybe we’ll try… k-kiss.” She stops, her face an inferno. “Things. We’ll try things. And then I’ll know if I love you that way too. And if I don’t, then we’ll have tried, and that’ll be enough, and we can still be friends, and I’ll help you find someone cute and nice that you can love like, like that.”
You take a bite out of your cake.
It’s a really good cake.
Chapter Fourteen
The professor who teaches Eugenics, Etiquette and Ethics is a tall woman in a very tight set of blood-red robes. Instead of having a weird professor hat, she has a sort of wide-brimmed floppy hat that Abigail called a cavalier. You don’t know what that means or what it’s supposed to tell you about the professor’s rank.
Really, if these mortals want to tell rank apart with hats they should put numbers on them, or maybe write the rank on the hat and give friendly people from the void like you a chart to tell them apart. It’s quite rude. Maybe you should get your own, better hat, to remind them that you’re better than all of them. And you could get one for Abigail too.
Abigail settles into her seat next to you, and as is appropriate Charlotte takes the seat on your other side. This way you’re surrounded by friends, even if they’re not in a cuddle pile. It will have to do for now.
